If I Whisper, You Won't Hear Me
by Funky In Fishnet
Summary: Because sherbert is never just sherbert when Gabriel's around. Sam finally lets go, finds his self-worth issues assaulted, and is claimed in an unusual way. SamGabriel slash.


_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own any of it._

_**Author Notes**__: Betaed by the wonderful cageyklio. Also when I say sherbert, where I come from, that is pixie sticks :)_

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**IF I WHISPER, YOU WON'T HEAR ME**

Sam buried his head in the motel pillow the moment Dean and Castiel left, hopefully to actually talk. He didn't think he could take one more day of longing looks and heavy meaningful silences between them.

"They're driving me crazy."

"Aww, Sammy, it's what brothers do best," Gabriel grinned from his impossible perch on the motel dresser that had definitely seen better days. "You should know all about that."

Sam raised the pillow so that he could glare at the archangel, who was sucking something off his own fingers. Sherbet maybe? Gabriel waggled his eyebrows and Sam's body traitorously stirred in response.

"They'll figure it out eventually," Gabriel said contemplatively. "Oh, wait, no, they won't, because they're both morons."

Sam tried hard not to laugh, really, he did. But Gabriel was right – their brothers were morons. Sam sighed, twisting over onto his back. The ceiling had really strange stains on it. There was one on the left that looked kind of like a ghoul.

"I'd say more like a truck."

Gabriel was lying beside him now. Sam hadn't heard him move or click his fingers. But there he was, sherbet-stained hands reaching up, tracing a shape in the air gracefully. Sam felt mesmerised by the movement, watching as Gabriel lowered his arm and licked off more of the sweet powder. His expression was almost blank for the archangel, which really should have been Sam's first clue if he wasn't so distracted. Gabriel's mouth pulled up in one corner like he had a secret joke.

Gabriel always had a secret joke. Increasingly, in that weird place in his head that Dean was never finding out about, Sam wished he'd share it.

"Who says I don't?"

Gabriel's voice was hot against Sam's ear, sherbet fingers leaving sticky sweet trails down his arm, across his neck, before a digit slipped into Sam's mouth. Sam got a taste – a sharp tang and cloying childhood sweetness wrapped around the warmth of Gabriel – before the fingers disappeared and Gabriel was curled up against him, leg thrown over Sam like ownership and a grin pressed against his neck. Sam tried to take a deep breath and tell himself that Gabriel didn't mean any of it seriously. There was no way the archangel actually wanted him.

"Maybe we're just not speaking the same language, Sammy."

Sam closed his eyes. But Gabriel was still there, a steady strong presence, so close he was practically part of him.

"Your language would make my head explode," Sam offered aloud eventually, his voice sounding a little dry and rough.

"Then you're listening wrong," Gabriel sniped, something that could be amusement bubbling up with his words.

His fingers were on the move again, powdery fingerprints appearing over any patch of Sam's skin that was on show. Sam had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being marked.

"You always were the smart brother," Gabriel breathed into his ear.

A shiver worked its way through Sam. One of his hands found Gabriel's. There was sugary residue already all over his knuckles. Marked. Gabriel's breath was hot and sweet and his tongue…..The need and lust that Sam had been battling since Gabriel'd first turned up again spiked harder than it had before. Something tore inside him.

He tightened his grip on the archangel, his expression wide and wanting and...

Gabriel smiled and swooped in to hungrily press sweetened lips to Sam's mouth. It was as though he'd been waiting and now the race was on. Sam tangled a hand in Gabriel's hair, legs trying to pull Gabriel closer, if that was possible.

It was always a game with Gabriel, and Sam was tired and wrung-out and needful, always fighting it. Every day Gabriel had pushed all his buttons hard, cracked open the parts that were fragile with such total purpose, like he _knew_. And now…..

"Let it go, Sam."

Gabriel's voice was a surprising mixture of soft and commanding and Sam gentled the kiss, coming up for air. Gabriel was smirking, familiar want in his gaze. There was something else too; something impossible and tender that Sam couldn't comprehend being directed at him. He wanted to fall into it.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam wanted to know, his voice wrecked now.

"Do you need me to draw a picture?" Gabriel grinned.

There was definite affection in his voice as he curved a sherbet-dusted hand around Sam's cheek. Sam shivered and leaned closer. God, he was such a lost cause.

"Why?"

Sam's single word was loaded – self-loathing at everything he'd done, the demon blood, Ruby, Lilith, the incoming apocalypse, Gabriel's emphatic words about which side he was on before turning up to help them without any long-term promise. Just why why why would an archangel want this? Why would Gabriel want this? Or was this just another trick, a distraction for the bored Trickster?

Gabriel laughed softly, his fingers moving on again. He hummed low in his throat, like the tune held all the answers. Then his mouth was on Sam's ear.

"You, Sammy," there were teeth nibbling Sam's earlobe now and his concentration melted rapidly in response. "And I don't want to share."

Sensation flamed under Sam's skin as Gabriel manhandled him with a strength that was unreal. _Archangel_. Sam couldn't resist. The need was building up to a roar, and Gabriel was like a tidal wave, unstoppable.

Sam welcomed it, he was starved for it. To lose himself, to have this. Gabriel crooned something triumphant and guttural and seemed intent on driving Sam out of his mind with touch alone. Skin on skin and yes, release. Sam gulped in air, weight sliding away from his shoulders, maybe just for these impossible moments.

He was still cracked, covered in fine lines that would probably take forever to heal. But he was being held together. Sam breathed and suddenly there were tears spilling down his face. Distantly, somewhere in his head, he heard Dean's voice - _Sam Winchester cries his way through sex_.

He didn't have the energy to be embarrassed, but he registered Gabriel carefully brushing the tears away and something lighter, almost feathery, stroking him comfortingly until Gabriel took possession of his mouth again, soothing and as quiet as Sam had ever seen him.

He woke up to the feeling of fingers painting across his skin. He was naked, like he had been when he'd finally fallen asleep, and Gabriel was sprawled across his back, humming that tune again. He sensed the moment Sam reached wakefulness.

"Have a good night?" Gabriel's voice was a grin.

Sam stretched hesitatingly. He felt rested; better than he had done for a really long time. Maybe even years. Gabriel had stayed. Something settled inside Sam. He tried for a small meaningful grateful smile.

"If you've got to ask….."

Gabriel laughed, hands continuing to move over Sam's skin. They were forming letters, numbers, sigils, something. Sam felt warmth in their wake. What was Gabriel doing? He tried to turn his head to see, but Gabriel firmly pushed him back down.

"I get this wrong, you're going to really regret it."

"What are you doing? What does it say?"

Gabriel finished a particular sweeping loop and then placed an almost reverential hand on Sam's back. The warmth persisted. It wasn't painful, it was just weird. Sam shifted.

"This is your Get Out of Jail Free card, Sammy. You can thank me later, a lot. I'll make a list."

"Gabriel….."

"It's a message, telling anyone who's powerful enough to read it to back off."

Sam gaped, hope and wonder and wariness flooding through him. Had he heard that right? "You're choosing a side?"

"I'm making a claim," Gabriel corrected, hands at work again.

That sent something hot through Sam. Gabriel smirked, his movements becoming a lot more deliberate. Sam gasped.

"And here's the funny thing, Sammy, this only works if _both_ participants are willing and wanting."

Sam flushed and stayed silent. He could feel Gabriel radiating mirth and smug satisfaction. His hands felt incredible. It was becoming very difficult to keep quiet.

"Done," Gabriel announced brightly.

Sam levered himself up cautiously. Woah. His skin was now covered in faint glowing letters. It was incredible. Some of it looked Enochian, the rest Sam didn't recognise. It was like elaborate tattooing, almost artistic. The marks were starting to fade. Sam couldn't tear his gaze away.

"It'll still be there," Gabriel said softly, his own eyes fixed on his work. "For anyone strong enough to see."

"What does it say?"

Gabriel smiled, but there was a tiny slice of apprehension hidden in his eyes. Sam caught it. "That no one can have you, because you're already taken. By me."

Sam's mouth fell open. He could feel dizziness sweeping over him, like the whole world was off-kilter. He didn't deserve this, this level of devotion. Not from anyone, certainly not an archangel, even a lapsed one. His breathing started to shake. Gabriel slid closer, an arm snaking around Sam. Warmth and solidarity and the promise that Gabriel had never made before now. God, Sam wanted that.

Did it mean Lucifer couldn't use him as a vessel now? What did the actual symbols translate as? Since Gabriel was the author, it was probably extremely crude and explicit. How did you curse in Enochian?

"I choose you, Sammy," Gabriel's words were low and his gaze intense when Sam met it, uncertain and desiring. "And I have excellent taste."

Sam felt warm from the inside out, undeserving and overwhelmed and something thawing, and dipped his head. Then he noticed that there was a tacky residue left on his skin that hadn't been there last night. He brushed some of it away. It looked familiar.

"Is that _sherbet_?"

Gabriel laughed, bending his head to lick at Sam's neck. Sam could feel something simmering under the surface, responding to Gabriel. It was like knowing a storm was coming and being unable to do anything to stop it. It was completely and scarily intoxicating. Sam wanted more, wanted to hold on knowing that Gabriel would bring him back to the surface in the aftermath.

"Delicious," declared Gabriel, with a waggle of his eyebrows that meant more and something else, something true.

It was one of those moments, pivotal, like everything was going to change afterwards. Sam had lived through enough of them to recognise it. He closed his eyes. Gabriel's tongue was still at work. Sam didn't stop him.

_-the end_


End file.
